


Laden With Monstrous Souls Deep Inside

by Lilymoncat



Category: Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Altmer Hero of Kvatch, Disjointed Imagery, Other, Semi-ambigous sex for the HoK, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, Uses He/They pronouns, Warning: Sheogorath, from mortals to gods to cosmic principles, motherly Sheogorath, probably unhealthy relationship, thoughts on the creation of the LDB soul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-23 22:56:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14942927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilymoncat/pseuds/Lilymoncat
Summary: It begins and ends with a scream.





	Laden With Monstrous Souls Deep Inside

It ends and begins with a scream that shakes the foundations of Oblivion, Mundus and Aetherius alike.

A doubled howl of grief and pain and starkest madness unleashed that nothing can match. Self loathing and bitter hatred of failure and the sense that the screamer thoroughly believed they should have been the one to die, be sacrificed. Madness cut completely free from Order lashing out. The youngest Daedric Prince fully born at long last dances through all spheres in cacophonic discordance. He does not consume His mortal parent, but intertwines with him so tightly only an Aedra might tell where the Hero of Kvatch ends and Sheogorath begins.

He rampages through the planes, uncaring that some are places no Daedra should be able to go. There is Madness in everything, even Order, and no one can tell him nay. Daedra sworn to Mehrunes Dagon sit and discuss peaceful resolutions to conflicts and how change is terrible and unnecessary, Aedric spirits of Magnus turn and rend each other to pieces without care for their magics. Mortals of all stripes fall into their many ways of being mad: counting obsessively, killing for teeth or bones or eyes, spouting nonsense as if it were sense. Ah but the majority, assenting that they are sane turn on the ones who demur their sanity and rend them to pieces.

And still He screams, he searches, they tear apart the lower and higher planes to force a response from the one They are seeking.

It is the grandest joke and deepest madness, They know. They are part of it, after all. The Mer who reflects the Man, Sheogorath who reflects Akatosh, Sithis who reflects Auri-El, Padomay who reflects Anu. They in all their forms hold the mirror up to Him in all of his, Nirn and all her mortals and immortals the children of their eternal dance. He has marked these paths before and not at all, taken what He wants and had it taken from Him times beyond times. Always He comes circling back, torments and tears at until a response is provoked and his own form is rent and split. He is all that Is Not and Can Not and Might Be, just as the Other is all the Is and Can Be and Will Be.

And at last there is a response.

The Word breaks the Silence, a tide of Life sweeps over the Void. The Dragon curls around the Gentleman With A Cane. The Emperor pins his raging Champion and silences his terrible cry with his own lips. They writhe beneath their opposite, fighting both to get away and get closer. To return to Their silence and to split His chest open and crawl inside and curl around His beating heart so that it is all They can hear. Sound writes over them, life grows within their emptiness and a barbed tail presses Them close to His scaled torso. They shift between mer and womer and both as Their Emperor tangles his frame with theirs, gives Him in Ascension what he did not or could not in their Mortality. They grab greedily at one Word/Life/Soul and tangle their Possibility and Madness into it. And a love of cheese, one of Their longest running jokes on Him. He cradles it to his chest oh-so-briefly, shows it in His false calm to Him, then lets it go to be born. Their first and last child, around whom so much both Would Not and Would Be entwines.

It begins and ends with a scream that shakes the foundations of Aetherius, Mundus and Oblivion, the creation of the Last Dragonborn.

**Author's Note:**

> ... I'm not even sure what part of my brain came up with this...


End file.
